Not Allowed To Touch
by NeverMineToHold
Summary: He hears and feels and witnesses the suffering, but Charles Xavier did nothing to alleviate it... Introspective piece. Testing the fandom waters, so to speak, feedback appreciated.


Title: „Not Allowed To Touch"

Status: Drabble; Complete

Fandom: X-Men: First Class

Characters: Charles Xavier

WordCount: 668

Disclaimer: I would love to own X-Men: First Class, but sadly, I don't.

Rating: K

Beta: The great snare-chan! Thank you so much!

Summary: He hears and feels and witnesses the suffering, but Charles Xavier did nothing to alleviate it. Short introspection scene with Charles Xavier on the usage of his power...

AN: Please R& R

Not Allowed To Touch

The screaming in his head is persistent, a lance of pain down his spine and straight into his core. It doesn't matter that Charles cannot understand the words – for those are in German – but he sees the images and _knows_ their meaning, acutely and intimately. He can feel what they do to Erik, who is broadcasting his distress in utter silence far beyond the borders of the mansion. His thoughts consist of his past, a dark, twisting ball of emotions. The rest of their group remains undisturbed only because they are deaf and ignorant to it.

He wonders briefly if that is a blessing.

Charles takes some deep breaths, slow and deliberate, and leans heavily against the dark oak door behind his back. It leads to the guest room Erik had set up camp in, claiming he liked the "vibes" from the metal ornaments and how they called to him. But obviously, they did nothing to calm his nightmares. The memories of Shaw, the concentration camps and his mother's death – the dark shades of pain, fear and the despised helplessness when he faced it all, as a mere boy.

Charles wanted to rush inside, suggest calm and safety inside Erik's mind and settle the troubled man into a deeper state of dreamless sleep...

But he can't, although he could. He _won__'__t_. If he starts this now, then where should, _can__he_, draw the line? His gift is a dangerous one, perhaps a power too much for one small human. Influencing a mind is often a gamble, especially when you care for the one in your focus.

Because there is free will, a concept that should be sacred to a telepath, and there is privacy. There too is the simple fact that you must never force your help on someone when it is not wanted. It would be arrogance of the highest order, to think you know what is good for another person, better than they do themselves. The best outcome could be gruff acceptance of the deed afterwards and the worst foregoing resentment in favor of outright hatred...

Charles has his flaws and knows them well. He is not prone to self-deceiving lies, but he won't force his good intentions on Erik because the German has made it abundantly clear that Charles is to stay away from his mind.

He accepts Erik's decision. It is his right. It is every human's right.

Maybe, when a deeper understanding and trust is reached between them, Erik will accept his help when it is offered. Charles considers him a friend already, but knows it will take Erik longer to reach the same conclusion, as scarred as he is. Their differences are stark in their sharp contrast. That gap cannot be reconciled without a joint effort.

Charles is willing to wait, although it is painful and the urge to just rush in is great. He will observe and wait patiently, and offer – but not interfere without permission...

XXX

Young Charles' feet dangled off the ground as he sat at the kitchen table, munching away on some cookies with bittersweet pieces of chocolate. The TV was on, showing a row of little penguins stumbling across the ice, desperate and weak in their struggle for food. But they walked the wrong way, away from the ocean.

"Mummy... Why doesn't the man with the camera help them?" he asked, his voice strangely thick and scratchy. His blue eyes were fixed on the screen.

His mother in her expansive dress made an absentminded noise. She was too immersed in planning the next dinner party to do more than glance up and was full of indifference.

"It's a documentary, sweetie. They can watch but must not interfere, no matter how much they want to," she sort-of explained in a murmur, her head tilted over the stack of invitations she considered far more important.

_Who__cares__about__some__penguins__anyway?_ she thought, loud and clear.

To her little boy, she sounded quite merciless.

End


End file.
